


To Tiantung from Diyu via Lian-yu

by caliburn



Series: Little Black Dress Fics [3]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012), Charmed (TV), The Sentinel
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sentinels & Guides, Alternate Universe - Sentinels and Guides Are Known, F/M, Sentinel/Guide Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-08
Updated: 2017-03-08
Packaged: 2018-10-01 03:46:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10179992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caliburn/pseuds/caliburn
Summary: Ollie Queen had been kicked out of four colleges before taking his girlfriends sister on the cruise from hell.  After five years in hell he has come home – online and angry.  Felicity Smoak graduated from MIT with a Masters at an age where most had yet to pick a major.  Her brief lapse into Hacktivism prodded her closer and closer to coming online, even her animal is annoyed waiting for her!  Then Oliver needs some tech help...





	

Lifting his head sharply, the ragged man snatched up a razor sharp k-bar and eyed the snarling tiger that was perched on the rocks surrounding his meagre camp.  
  
“Shi Shinju - Wǒ tīng dào tā” [Yes Shinju, I hear it]  
  
With a chuff the enormous animal leapt over his head and started through the undergrowth, it's human following on strong naked feet. Man and beast raced along a familiar trackway, his strong arms using branches to swing above obstacles that the cat simply flowed over, bare rock rough under sole and pad. A final clamber up a near vertical granite wall and he paused, his own panting breaths and the huffing of his companion loud in his ears, allowing him to focus on the small vessel that they had heard from so far away. A leap and a scramble brought them to a puddle of olive tarp, prepared so carefully and protected from the elements. One mighty thrust embedded the blade into the rock and a sharp twist sparked off the steel to light a goose fletched arrow.  
  
“Shèn zhòng měi lì.” [Careful beautiful]  
  
A tongue licked a sandpaper line up his naked calf and steadied his aim, the readied wooden pyre exploding into a fireball that no boat could possibly miss. As the pilot brought the small sketch into the shore the green-clad man pulled a crate free from it's shelter and placed his bow into it before sealing it with a heavy padlock. Placing it ready to grab he walked to the pebbled and rocky shore where the fishermen had landed, watching them eye the displayed mask that had provided him with a way to judge his eyes whilst alone. Carefully, favouring his weakened leg he knelt down, lowering his hood to reveal twisted dreadlocks of tawny gold that coiled in the shore breeze and danced in his eyeline.  
  
“Nín hǎo, wǒ xìng Oliver Queen. Wǒ shì měiguórén. Qǐng bāng bāng wǒ.” [Hello. My name is Oliver Queen. I am American. Please help me.]  
  
In the end his rescue was quick and easy, a warm though ragged blanket was thrown over his shoulders and endless cups of scalding tea provided as they headed back towards civilisation. As Purgatory began to disappear all Oliver could do was huddle in and consider his next steps, his now invisible companion a comforting warmth at his feet, breath huffing as their new path unfolded.  
  
  
@-;---  
  
  
Five days seemed both an eternity and an eye blink. The crew abandoned their fishing and headed for Shanghai, happy to take their curious passenger to a place where someone else could be in charge of the ragged American. The Consulate General staff were initially puzzled by their bedraggled refugee but a check of his fingerprints triggered a priority file and sent emails flying across the pacific; it wasn't long before he was able to wash and rest under a roof for the first time in months. Shinju's cautious huffing was followed by a long yawn that let him know he wasn't under direct surveillance, and the lack of a strong S/G pair at the Consulate meant that finally Oliver could meditate and pull his senses in, sealing his preternatural dials to mundane levels ready for his mask to reform. Ollie Queen, the playboy, would be the hardest acting role of his life, but ARGUS had left him Oscar-worthy.  
  
  
The embassy ordered his immediate repatriation to the continental USA, arranging for him to travel on a diplomatic shuttle that would make a stop in Starling City to deliver him home. Still, Oliver did not breath easy until they were out of Chinese Air-Space, the Beijing Government had in the past snatched up Sentinels and Guides that came on-line in their territories, stationing patrolling pairs at ports and airports, the 'centres' were not like those elsewhere – more state monitoring than secure and reassuring oases, he had no intention of ending up working for the Ministry of State Security or any of it's less salubrious subsidiaries.  
  
  
His minders did not stop herding him until he was inside a private room of Starling General Hospital, a room inside the Queen wing for additional security. Then they handed him over to the medical staff and he was touched constantly; light tracings over his scars, needles to draw blood, hands that positioned his body for scan after scan. The one touch he welcomed was from a friendly oncology sister who came and offered to shave off his matted hair having heard from a colleague that he kept asking and asking for it to go. Finally he was left alone, in fine cotton scrubs that didn't scratch, to look out onto the bright dazzle of his city and listen surreptitiously to the doctor outside.  
  
“20% of his body is covered in scar tissue, there are second degree burns on his back and arms. He has cut marks and slashing wounds. X-rays show at least 12 fractures that never properly healed.”  
“Has he said anything about what happened? The photograph the embassy sent...”  
  
That was his mother, a voice entwined inside him but echoing even more to his new self.  
  
“No, he's barely said anything... Moira, I'd like you to prepare yourself. The Oliver you lost might not be the one they found.”  
  
The door clicked open and heels clicked, a fast heart beat he somehow knew came in.  
  
“Oliver?”  
  
He turned slowly, knowing that her presence meant he was truly home, that he had not imagined his rescue in a cave on Lian-yu.  
  
“Mom.”  
  
He went to her on bare feet, shoes still too uncomfortable to manage and stood an arms length from her, emotions writ on her face as she so rarely allowed.  
  
“Oh, my beautiful boy.”  
  
She pulled him in, as easily as she had done in his childhood and kissed his face, the photograph that had been taken in Shanghai fluttering to the floor as she held her child again. He held her back, the scent of her shampoo and familiar fragrance reassuring him that he was finally home.  
  
  
@-;---  
  
  
An almighty crash in her living room brought Felicity racing from her bathroom, waving her toothbrush wildly in the air.  
  
  
From beneath her coffee table a bushy tail protruded and she stopped, tapping her foot until the tail's owner came out, one of her socks hanging from it's mouth. At her glare the little beast dropped the sodden mangled mess and danced on it a little before baring it's fangs and snorting a hoarse ya-ya-ya at her.  
  
“What are you doing?”  
  
The animal sat up on it's hind legs and stared at her intensely.  
  
“I am not coming online.”  
  
It yawned at that statement, long pink tongue extending languidly at her words.  
  
“The Las Vegas centre were disgusting when I went there. That hideous woman knew nothing about me, about me or mom or... or anything.”  
  
It reached up and tapped long claws on the table, a waterfall of noise as white nails clicked and clacked.  
  
“I shouldn't even be able to see you... why can I see you at all! Only the powerful can see their spirit animals before they bond and I'm very middling... I mean not at other things, I'm a great hacker – or you know great at computers and things, you know MIT said so and I got my masters and I went when I was 16 and... and I'm talking to my own sub-conscious in animal form and this is just wrong and three... two... one...”  
  
She sank back onto her couch and patted the matryoshka dolls that patterned her pyjama bottoms. Blonde curls fell forward to shield her face and damp eyes. With a small grunt of effort her animal clambered up next to her and flopped over her lap, waving his legs and begging for tummy rubs.  
  
“Helgi...”  
  
She sighed and gave in to the ardent pleading.  
  
“You are supposed to be the fiercest predator of the savannah you know, not soliciting for snuggles. Honey Badgers are dangerous and unpredictable, I'm just Felicity... nothing special even according to the Alpha's... who could want me as a guide.”  
  
  
@-;---  
  
  
Oliver had come online traumatically and remained feral for days, he still was not entirely sure how he had gained control over his dials. Since the island he had worked his passage across the pacific on a Cargo ship, been a longshore-man in Coast City, been kicked out of a plane over his own hell by Amanda Waller, fought a possessed narcotics dealer, become a Bratva Captain and ended up bare foot and ragged back in purgatory. His only constancies had been a massive white tiger and righteous anger over his father's suicide and the mission he had been given. The artificial interior of the Bentley Town-car his mother had arrived to collect him in almost sent him into a zone. The lights, leather, liquor and luscious luxury were so far removed from anything he had sensed since coming on-line. Anatoli had enjoyed the finer things in life but all the silks had stunk of cordite and fear, base notes built on the backs of those beneath the Bratva.  
  
  
Many believed that modern Sentinels needed cosseted when their senses emerged, they were swept into safe rooms with purified air and softened surfaces, fed nutritious and tasty but bland food, bathed in purified water and given silk and Egyptian cotton to wear. The vehicle was as close as Oliver had ever come to one of those 'safe spaces' and it was troubling him more than any jungle – urban or wild.  
  
  
The wide sweeping drive that led from the road to the Queen Mansion was strangely familiar. The curve of tarmac was where he had learned to ride a bicycle and fail to ride a skateboard. Where he had first driven (and crashed) a car and ridden a motorbike whilst his mother had palpitations in the Drawing Room. The grass was always a velvet cover and the topiary marched in regimented patterns, even the roses seemed to bloom on command. It was nature but controlled, his childhood home now more alien than any wilderness.  
  
  
The clothes his mother had brought him fit well enough, only the shoes really uncomfortable due to spending so long without. He was just in time to stop the Chauffeur from touching the green case that contained all his possessions before following in his mothers footsteps. She threw open the double doors of her domain and led him in, reassured to be back on her territory.  
  
“Your room is exactly as you left it... never had the heart to change a thing.”  
  
A deep voice called his name and a new aroma assailed him, one that was intimately connected to his mothers scent pile. The tall Englishman seemed delighted to see him, but until his mother reminded him he had no recollection of who he was. He shook his hand briefly but was distracted by a new face, one of the two he had truly missed.  
  
“рады видеть Вас Раиса .” [Glad to see you Raisa]  
“Добро пожаловать домой, г-н Оливер .” [Welcome home Mr Oliver]  
  
He wished he could say more, but he was distracted by another perfume and the sound of light footsteps above. At the head of the blue stairs she stood, so grown up but still his little sister.  
  
“Hey sis.”  
“I knew it, I knew you were alive...”  
  
She jumped into his arms and clasped his neck for dear life.  
  
“You were with me the whole time.”  
  
Now he was home.  
  
  
@-;---  
  
  
His bedroom really had not changed. His High School text books and the remnants of four attempted Ivy League educations scattered his shelves. Even the toy yacht he had sailed as a boy was still resting on it's side where he had left it. The closest Oliver could bring himself to the bed was sliding the verdant box under the frame. However, he made full use of the endless water tank and let the heat pound over him, sloughing off the Island and the stink of fish and medicine that had clung to his skin. Wrapping a towel around his hips he looked himself over in the Cheval glass, his face was that of a stranger, tattoos both mystical and mundane were etched into his skin and he was pock marked with injuries – only in the most superficial manner did he resemble the boy in the photographs on his desk. Breathing deeply he let his shields relax a little and Shinju appeared behind him, tail thumping on the hardwood floors. The animal began to prowl around the space, sniffing in corners and chuffing over childhood treasures, making a territory within the thick stone walls.  
  
  
He had heard the overpowered sports car from the road and tracked it's progress to the house so the door opening behind him did not make him jump – Oliver was well aware of his PTSD and used his senses to ameliorate it as much as possible around people.  
  
“What did I tell you, yachts suck.”  
  
He folded the other man into his embrace, a thousand childhood adventures rolling through his mind. Then he paused and inhaled again – there was something in the man's scent pile that spiked through him, this would need to be considered.  
  
  
The over elaborate food was too much, as was seeing Raisa walking around the table serving them. Oliver simply sat and let the presence of those he loved roll over him, embedding them into his senses and finally letting himself form a rudimentary pack. With Tommy and Thea on either side he knew what his senses were telling him, they were related, his only connection to his sister were the markers they shared with his mother who sat at the opposite end of the long table with Walter. He let Tommy rumble on about Super-bowls and TV shows before tuning in again when Thea dropped her cutlery and focused on him.  
  
“What was it like there?”  
  
Everything stopped, it was like being behind Anatoli when he stepped into a room.  
  
“Cold.”  
  
What else could he say to his 17 year old sister, what could he say to any of the billionaires in the room.  
  
  
The hesitation in the voices of the pair at the far end of the table gave him pause, he had broken into Queen Consolidated during his absence but needed to go back now, needed to see if he could find his father there. Suddenly he came back to the room when Raisa tripped, catching her and her bowl of fruit.  
  
“I'm sorry Mr Oliver.”  
“Не волнуйтесь , никаких повреждений не было сделано , никакого вреда не должно было быть” [Do not worry, no damage was done and no harm was meant.]  
  
Raisa was stunned and Oliver froze. She had taught him basic phrases as a child when he took refuge in the kitchen, but he had spoken as the man he had become not the boy he had been. Fortunately Tommy spoke up.  
  
“Dude, you speak Russian?”  
“I didn't realise you took Russian at College Oliver.”  
  
The interloper finally gave him an opening to test him and Oliver took it.  
  
“I didn't realise you wanted to sleep with my mother, Walter.”  
  
Another room freeze and he took in the emotional tone of the room as well as the sensory peaks and troughs. Shinju materialised just for his eyes and he simply nodded as they all spoke before pushing himself up from the table.  
  
“May I be excused?”  
  
His mother inclined her head, a true Queen at table and he picked up an apple before tapping Tommy on the shoulder and winking to Thea before following his cat to his space.  
  
  
@-;---  
  
  
The bed was never going to work. It was too soft, too big and held far too many memories. Instead Oliver stripped to under-shirt and boxer briefs before unrolling a sleeping mat from his case and curling up in the bay window. Unfortunately, he had forgotten about the window he had carefully worked on to swing loose and the threatened storm forced the frame to open in the wind. The thunder and lightening triggered something deep within him and suddenly he was on the Gambit again, watching Sara be swept away, watching himself fail. Then there was a hand on his shoulder and he moved, training over-riding his sensory imprints, only the last minute scent of roses staying his hand.  
  
“I'm sorry... I'm sorry... я прошу прощения... I'm sorry... Прости... Duìbùqǐ... Прости... Duìbùqǐ... Прости... Duìbùqǐ...”  
“It's alright sweetheart, you're home.... you're home.”  
  
Oliver focused on her, imprinting her more as Shinju curled around him – this could not happen again.  
  
  
@-;---  
  
  
After a night spent more in meditation than in sleep Oliver dressed in jeans that had been washed soft and opened his case. After gently moving his fathers faded moleskine he found the Hōzen that had graced Shado's neck after it's retrieval from around a marooned Japanese soldiers vertebrae. He rubbed his thumb over the engraved hànzì:  
  
毒藥並不需要殺死  
“Poison does not need to kill.”  
  
It may once have referred to the mirakuru but perhaps it could be for another toxin now. He had killed for Thea, breaking Jordan Kerns neck and throwing him over a balcony, but her scent pile was heavy with chemicals and her spirit laden with burdens that he recognised all too well. Heading to her room he paused, the sound of a credit card edge against wood all too familiar.  
  
“Where did you get these?”  
“Roxy's... thank you Daddy's ACL tear.”  
  
Deliberately stepping on the loose floorboard, he opened Thea's door, watching dourly as they hid the white powder under a laptop.  
  
“Ollie!”  
“No-one has called me that for a long time Speedy.”  
“Ugh, really.”  
“Suited you, always chasing after me!”  
  
He kept to himself the odour of amphetamine that prompted him to remember the moniker. Her friend scurried out, not prepared for a protective older brother.  
  
He handed her the arrow head, telling her that it meant reconnecting in Buddhist lore. It was also part of him – as good as a tracking device for an Alpha like him.  
  
“I was hoping for a T-shirt!”  
  
Oliver turned and pushed Tommy towards his room, he really needed to start remembering to put on shoes.  
  
“Did you notice how hot your sister has gotten... cos I totally haven't.”  
  
The idea gave Oliver a whole body shudder, he needed to find out why their base notes were too similar – and ensure that NOTHING ever happened!  
  
  
@-;---  
  
  
Tommy had been absolutely correct, visiting Laurel had been an unmitigated disaster. However, it had allowed him to imprint her – he had no idea if Sara had survived the Amazo but he owed it to her family. She had left a miasma of fear, pain and fury that he could almost taste – the reason that he missed the van coming to a halt behind them, a sudden needle bite and everything went dark.  
  
  
Oliver came around to the huffing of a furious Bengal, teeth bared and eyes almost glowing.  
  
  
His oldest friend was face down on an old tarp, only his heartbeat keeping the Sentinel barely sane. Their kidnappers wore rubber horror masks and were armed with automatic weapons, too organised for gang-bangers but not enough for any of the syndicates he knew. He was just tracking, breathing slowly and steadily when the leader stepped closer and hit him in the sternum with an illegally overcharged taser. Shinju materialised, leaping over her Sentinel and savaging the throat of the wielder. Oliver's eyes flashed the same as his spirit and snapped the cable ties holding him to the chair. With a roar he broke it and used parts as makeshift Eskrima yantok, striking with deadly and practised force. One tried to flee the warehouse but the seat of the chair made for a reasonable discus and a solid hit to the back of his head sent him flying. Dropping the staves Oliver went to Tommy's side, feeling for his pulse delicately before heaving him up over his shoulder and following his fully corporeal guide out into the bright day.  
  
  
It didn't take long for him to gather an audience, he was sure that twitter knew before the police or the S/G centre. Finding a larger area of pavement he lowered Tommy carefully and posed him in recovery before standing over him and eyeballing the crowd. They kept a respectful distance back from him, schools taught the consequences of trying to interfere with a feral Sentinel. Unfortunately the Starling Police had perhaps forgotten their lessons as the first two cruisers arrived with their sirens and lights on full.  
  
  
Shinju was prowling around the two men, tail slowly waving, dinner plate sized paws leaving impressions on the ground.  
  
“QUEEN!”  
  
Oliver's head rotated to face the Detective, eyes narrowing and nostrils flaring as he ground his feet and balanced his weight.  
  
“Less than 48 hours 'alive' and you're messing up my town Queen. This is a record, it took you a week at Harvard...”  
“ENOUGH!”  
  
  
A golden Cougar materialised, screaming at the police with bared fangs while a Great Horned Owl landed on their car, scratching the paintwork with sharp talons and an almighty screech. The crowd parted like the Red Sea to allow a couple to approach.  
  
“You will STOP Detective Lance.”  
  
The power in his voice halted the headstrong officer, and everyone else. His shorter partner touched him gently and calmed the raging Guide.  
  
  
He kissed her temple softly before making his way to the distressed Sentinel whose feral breakthrough had brought them. Watching to make sure her husband was safe, his petting of Shinju assured it, Piper turned her chocolate gaze onto Starlings finest.  
  
“What is the meaning of this? A Sentinel is in a feral state and instead of calling the Centre you arrive with lights and sirens on full...”  
“It's Oliver Queen.”  
“Sentinel Queen.”  
“He's no Sentinel.”  
“I think his tiger would disagree with you Detective.”  
“He killed my child... if he had the gene he should be Dormant – he's damaged.”  
  
  
The Sentinel looked over his shoulder and nodded to a large man waiting patiently for her decision.  
  
“Thank you Owen. If you would?”  
  
A heavy hand on his shoulder and the Detective slumped into obedient calm.  
  
“The Assessment Centre please, he needs to be looked over.”  
“What about Sentinel Queen?”  
“He'll be with us, check in once you have this one settled.”  
“As you wish Alpha.”  
  
Piper closed one eye at the him.  
  
“Major Hunt.”  
  
Her Cougar snorted at him, the Guides German Shepherd panting at his heels.  
  
“Brigid, heel.”  
  
They left and Sentinel Halliwell turned back to their main problem. Leo had calmed the feral man enough to let the paramedics help his friend but he was still agitated.  
  
“Leo?”  
“It is safe darling, Sentinel Queen will let you close.”  
“Thank you.”  
“Oliver.”  
“I may?”  
“Please... not Sentinel, not worthy...”  
  
  
Shinju licked his hand and Minerva landed on his shoulder to preen cropped locks. Ochre crouched at her side, tail coiled and tongue lazily licking his pink nose.  
  
“They disagree Oliver... come on... we'll go somewhere safe.”  
  
  
@-;---  
  
  
Oliver had not wanted to like the Sentinel/Guide centre, he had expected a sterile space, had expected the aseptic conditions of the textbooks and school tours he remembered. However, it was warm, slightly spicy and comfortable for all his senses. It reminded him of the Yamashiro's apartment in Hong Kong or the few Chashitsu he had ever visited; a floor covered in tatami, incense in the air, candles and crystals in tokonoma and a gentle water fall in the corner to moisten the air. The training Tatsu had given him in Hong Kong had never been more useful, clearing his mind, sorting through his senses and becoming even closer to Shinju.  
  
  
He had spent four days in the centre before seeing even a blood relation, a week before Piper and Leo allowed Starling City PD to question him – and they had banned Detective Lance from being within the centre's grounds! He could not give them much, his feral state had blown all his senses wide open but the kidnappers hadn't given him any hints over who had hired them. He gave them the scents and imprints he had taken but the majority of his focus had been on the source of his rage. Of those who had been fit for questioning, two had mysteriously died in custody – the current theory was that either it had been a kidnap for ransom gone very wrong or an attempt to take an unbonded Sentinel for nefarious means. The second was more worrying, as to identify Oliver as a Sentinel meant that a dark Guide was working in the US.  
  
  
Finally, after a full ten days of seclusion it was time for him to emerge once more. His family were waiting in one of the main rooms of the centre, and he joined them in a soft woollen suit over a shirt that Leo had provided. The seams were satin wrapped and his under-shirt had all the seams on the outside to minimize any skin discomfort. His mother was sat in a leather wing-back chair, watching the news but all three Queens turned to face him. It was Walter who addressed him first  
  
“Do you have any questions about today Oliver? It's a simple proof of life declaration, Just read our brief prepared statement to the judge, and then your death in absentia judgement will be voided.”  
“It's fine Walter, I've been in a courtroom before.”  
  
From behind them a new voice arrived.  
  
“Four times; the DUI, the assault on that paparazzi douche bag, stealing that taxi, which was just awesome by the way - and who could forget peeing on the cop?”  
“I wish everyone would.”  
  
Moira's voice was as dry as the Sahara. There were some things she had NOT missed about having her son home. Oliver scraped up a smile and nudged Tommy's shoulder, the fine grained leather of his jacket soft under his fingers.  
  
“I'd hang but we're headed to court.”  
“My best friend is getting legally resurrected I wouldn't miss this for the world.”  
  
Thea opted out of the journey, she had fallen in love with one of the gardens in the centre and wanted to visit it again. She was being encouraged to come, most of the intake specialists were convinced that she was on the verge.  
  
  
@-;---  
  
  
Piper and Leo walked ahead of Oliver, the hordes of TV news and paparazzi separating like the Red sea ahead of the San Francisco Alpha pair. Owen was at the 'new' Sentinel's side, hand hovering between his shoulder blades as unspoken support. All three were well aware that he had not emerged for Tommy Merlyn – his connection to Shinju was too profound to be new. He had spent hours closeted away with the military Guide sorting through memories and experiences – Major Hunt had specific training that no civilian could match. All four could sense the unease in Oliver's mother, she had wanted to seize her son up in her arms that morning but knew she couldn't and a strange combination of panic, fear and anger was coiled up in her core. Walter however was a cool pillar of calm, a truly placid mundane that all the online wanted to rub against, even metaphorically.  
  
  
The camera flashes and competing voices calling out his name and questions were almost too much and he closed his eyes, freezing on the pavement in the middle of the chaos. Owen took his wrist and touched his back, murmuring that he should keep his eyes shut and trust that they would get him inside. Personal security was forcing the fourth estate to move aside and finally they all managed to enter the marble halls of justice.  
  
“There was a storm, the boat went down... I was the only survivor. My father didn't make it... I almost died. I-I thought that I had because I spent so many days on that life raft before I saw the island... When I reached it I knew, I knew that I was going to have to live for both of us. And in those five years, it was that one thought that kept me going.”  
  
  
After he finished speaking Oliver collapsed into Piper's arms, needing a Sentinel's strength to take the pressure of the Court, the two Guides settling close around him. Their specific roles would come once their charge was officially alive. One of QC's lead counsel stood then to sum up.  
  
“Your honour, we move to vitiate the death in absentia filed after Oliver's disappearance at sea aboard the Queen's Gambit five years ago. Unfortunately we will not be requesting that the declaration of death for the petitioners father Robert Queen be rescinded. The Queen family is only entitled to one miracle I'm afraid.”  
“The death in absentia is so vitiated.”  
“Thank you.”  
  
The judge now looked over to the gifted group and nodded to Owen who had agreed to take the lead.  
  
“Your Honour, I am Major Guide Owen Hunt. I am an unbonded Guide of the first rank and it has been my privilege to work with Sentinel Queen.”  
“Your ranking and expertise are noted here Guide Hunt.”  
“Thank you, your Honour. Mr Queen was referred to the care of the Alpha pack of San Francisco as there was no Pack or Pride suitable to help him in Starling City. After working with Sentinel Queen it is our opinion that he will become the first Starling City Alpha in almost a century once he finds his true match Guide. He is too highly ranked to work with a borderline match and will form a Pride when he finds his other half.”  
“Will Sentinel Queen require Conservation?”  
“Not at this time. He is balanced and a safe space has been constructed to Grade 5 requirements in his home while he was sequestered with us. The Guild have undertaken to rebuild the Starling Centre as he will need a space closer than us when he bonds.”  
  
Piper could hear Oliver's teeth grinding as he was discussed as though he were either a metropolitan resource or fragile child.  
  
“Don't make me freeze this courtroom Queen.”  
“You'd do it for fun little sorceress!”  
“You're thinking of my sisters...”  
  
Leo cleared his throat at a volume only a Sentinel could hear and they both smiled themselves silent, Oliver's immediate acceptance of Magick had stunned them – until they heard a little of his adventures. Strange idols and mystical tattoo's made three prophesied sister-witches almost understandable in comparison.  
  
  
@-;---  
  
  
Owen had escorted the Queen family home and inspected the new Isolation and Balancing suite that had been rapidly constructed in the Mansion. Happy with the set up he hugged Oliver goodbye and extracted a promise for a visit soon before making his way back to his driver and heading away. The family had gathered in the Drawing Room and Oliver joined them, surprised by the new man standing at parade rest.  
  
“Oliver, this is Mr Diggle. He'll be accompanying you from now on.”  
“Mom, I um...”  
  
Walter read the uncomfortable expression on his step-son's face and touched his wife's shoulder gently.  
  
“Maybe Oliver doesn't need this.”  
“I need this!”  
  
Just shy of histrionic, it was the most emotion Oliver could recall his mother using since he had returned.  
  
“You were feral... You almost had to be sedated by a sharpshooter... then you were taken from me – again! At least let him drive you, you're not allowed for another week at least.”  
“Alright mom, shall we?”  
  
With a gesture he headed out of the French doors, followed by his new suited and booted shadow. When they were away from the house Oliver stopped, cocked his head for a moment then focused on the soldier before holding out a scarred hand.  
  
“Oliver Jonas Queen, Alpha Sentinel in waiting.”  
“John Diggle, three sense, call me Dig.”  
“And the rest?”  
“Master Sergeant, Army Rangers – 105 Airborne out of Kandahar before my time was up. What's your plan?”  
  
Oliver slowly smiled.  
  
“We're going to get on just fine Dig.”  
“We are... Alpha.”  
  
  
@-;---  
  
  
Oliver changed into older clothes and they took a more inconspicuous vehicle before heading into the Glades. Producing his father's notebook they spent a productive few hours discussing potential tactics and exchanging histories. Before coming on-line Oliver had planned to use Shado's hood to deal with his enemies, his senses and duty to the tribe made it both easier and harder to kill. A Sentinel would blaze through adversaries to defend Pride, Pack or Tribe, but the assassinations he had been trained in by ARGUS would no longer fit with his moral imperative.  
  
  
Everyday they headed out into the city, letting Oliver take in his territory and then descending into the basement of the old Queen Consolidated Foundry building to create a home base.  
  
  
They moved boxes and old machinery before collecting items that had been ordered under various names and in different cities across the Northern Hemisphere. Dig had watched his Alpha grind arrow heads and set up a basic chemistry laboratory with competent hands, before shooting tennis balls out of the air with pinpoint accuracy.  
  
  
It was the use of a USB drive, shot through an open window to the credenza behind slum landlord Adam Hunt's desk however that confirmed that his 'charge' had been involved with ARGUS. Only Amanda Waller and Nicholas Fury had access to that type of technology, and SHIELD would have taken better care of the Sentinel. Watching the now ruined and disgraced man shout and complain as he was taken into custody was a good evening. His real accounts and books had 'accidentally' been forwarded to the DA's office, CNRI and several news outlets; there was no hiding when a Sentinel went looking.  
  
  
@-;---  
  
  
Donna hated the look on her little girls face every time she came home from the Las Vegas Centre for Sentinel and Guide studies. She didn't need to have the skills her daughter would one day develop to see that the much vaunted 'training' they kept harping on about were doing her little genius no good at all.  
  
  
Ever since she had been picked out of her Kindergarten class as a 'potential' things had changed, not least her father's attitude. His escalating behaviour and constant withdrawing from his child had made her nervous so she called some 'friends' – working in Vegas meant you made some really interesting acquaintances – and their photographs had her making a flit away.  
  
  
Noah had swept her off her feet, spinning tales of riches and adventures that somehow ended up with a small genius and a tiny apartment just off the strip. His copies of 'Phrack' magazine piled up on the tables; wires, cables and shards of plastic littered the floor where Felicity tried to teeth on them or build them into piles that only her little toddler mind could comprehend. Once the shine had begun to tarnish Donna looked into some of the plaques he displayed so prominently on their tatty walls, only to find fake Colleges and qualifications that didn't exist. However, when she asked she received one of two replies; either that she was too dumb to understand what he did or that he should have earned them but those in authority over him did not see his genius and were too stupid to see his developments for what they truly were. Her last memory was of watching him pontificate about his new ideas for how telephone systems should work to anyone who would hang on his every word while tugging slightly uncomfortably at his turtle-neck, and honestly – a turtle-neck in Vegas, she should have known.  
  
  
Leaving Noah had been the easiest and hardest decision of her life; they were free of his dubious associations and schemes but she was now fully responsible for her darling child. Felicity Megan had enormous blue eyes, fair hair and more brains than both her parents multiplied together. She was talking in sentences before she was two and one morning chirped up that the numbers in the newspaper were wrong. As the front page article had been about a massive fraud running between four casinos, two bookies and someone who might have been a little bit 'Sicilian', Donna was shocked, but not as much as when her three year old pointed out an error in the addition that the journalist had diagrammed for his readers. Noah had bragged about his little genius until she pointed out that his circuit board was soldered wrong, between her IQ and her future empathy he had backed off at a rate of knots.  
  
  
When Felicity was finished with her school day she usually went to an after-school club; science, maths, robotics and even gymnastics (although that one was a brief experiment). Then she needed to be somewhere safe, sometimes that was with Donna at work – depending on the location of her shift – and sometimes it meant the centre. As a very young potential she was mostly in ethics classes and meditation, as well as playing with all the other S/G babies in the area; juvenile platonic bonds often made for very strong pairs in later life. She was a chatty little thing, braced smiles and scraped knees not hiding the prettiness she had inherited straight down the maternal line – along with an abrupt nature and a tendency to word vomit in stressful times. As she grew older she was able to spend more time with her mother, preferring to people watch and scribble code than mingle with the snotty nosed specialists who kept hammering at her underdeveloped shields.  
  
  
It was during one of her mother's shifts at the Montecito that her first major emergence occurred. The security teams had spotted her as soon as she started to show up after school, fortunately Ed had a soft spot for hard working mom's with over clever daughters (exhibit A – Delinda) and she was snuggled into the bosom of the casino. During a quiet moment Danny had come down to check over her homework – military history was NOT a high point of her academic career and was puzzled to find her dangling french fries near the floor.  
  
“Hey sweetness.. is the tile hungry?”  
  
She didn't stop what she was doing but side eyed the tall marine with all the disdain her tween eyes could manage – and she had learnt from the women in her life.  
  
“No, the odd baby furry thing is hungry but I can't get him.”  
“O – K?”  
“Danny. How long have you been looking at monitors? That's what Mitch and my program are for! You need to rest your eyes – especially if you're missing the beastie.”  
  
He leaned over more fully, blinking sharply as a small black and white face materialised. A deep inhalation and his own Red Panda Saoirse appeared and started to try and groom the little one. Felicity dropped the food.  
  
“Why is Saoirse petting it?”  
“Because he's yours.”  
“Nope.”  
  
She leaned back and folded her arms, narrowing her eyes at the patient Sentinel sharing her table. He just reached out and began to nibble on her fries.  
  
“They're mine.”  
“You were trying to feed them to a Spirit Animal.”  
“He looked hungry.”  
“He looked... OK. You've been in classes since you were six – how can you not see that he's yours!”  
“Alpha said so.”  
“Alpha who?”  
“That one that came to visit... the big special thing at the centre? Like, three weeks ago – where were you by the way – it was like 'everyone MUST be there'. They totally dragged Spencer back from Quantico and everything.”  
“Spencer is at Caltech.”  
“Nu-huh. He's like a fibbie now.”  
“Spencer Reid... Spencer one sharp gust and he'll blow over, only person smarter than you Reid has joined the bureau?”  
“Yeah, BAU – he wouldn't explain it to me, said I had to be older.”  
“He's right, anyway – big meeting?”  
“This really old dude, like 40 or something, had us all walk in front of him then the Alphas made notes and told us our futures.”  
“Told you your future...”  
“In S/G terms anyway. Said I'll not be powerful enough to bond and it was a waste taking up their time.”  
  
Danny growled sub-vocally, but enough to startle the nascent Guide at his side.  
  
“Sorry hon.”  
“It's alright, Spencer slammed out and left – he hasn't even answered my e-mail.”  
“Did you get the name of the dude?”  
“Wrote it down. I'll mail it you later.”  
“Thanks. So, since the Alpha said you can't bond the tiny fuzzy thing can't be yours?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Save me from logic.”  
  
  
He got up and headed over to the animals, letting Saoirse climb onto his shoulder in her usual position before carefully picking up the baby. Felicity was piling her books back into her pack and draining her milkshake, there were no vanilla malts allowed in the security office.  
  
  
Two heads popped up when Danny led his shadow into the office. They had had to declare Felicity's occasional presence to the Gaming Commission but as long as she was documented (and NOT on the floor) it was fine.  
  
“Hey kiddo, how's the essay doing?”  
“Hello Uncle Ed. We didn't get to it.”  
  
Ed looked at his apprentice over the girls head but he was peering into his cupped hands at a curled ball of fluff. He carefully deposited his load onto the desk top and laughed softly as Mitch jerked back, his chair sliding back as he had neglected to put on his brakes.  
  
“We're trying to identify this little one.”

“Any ideas?”  
“I think you need an expert!”  
  
Danny had rummaged in his desk and pulled out a camera, getting down on his knees to take a snap of the fuzzy scrap. Saoirse had jumped onto the table and now picked up the baby, carrying it over to Danny's computer with Felicity following.  
  
“I'll mail this to Grissom and Greg, one or other should know. If not I'll try Spencer.”  
“OK. Can you still look at my essay?”  
  
  
Danny reached over to pull up another chair, the spirit guides were now tumbling around in pleasure – their joy lightening both their hearts.  
  
  
@-;---  
  
  
Felicity's leaving party was held in a room at the Tangiers when Ed called in a favour with Sam Braun. It had all been planned but the Montecito's new owner decided to demolish and refurbish to build her vision, regardless of all the bookings that were cancelled. It was a good sized crowd, a mixture that Donna and daughter had gathered around them. She may not have understood what her little girl was off to study but she knew that MIT was a huge deal and that getting in on a full scholarship three years early was even bigger. It was with pride she donned a College shirt and jeans rather than the little dresses she usually favoured, ready to send Vegas' best off with style.  
  
  
As well as adults, teens and children there were a small zoo's worth of Spirit Guides joining the celebration. It had been Spencer who managed to identify the cub as a Honey Badger, prompting Felicity to name him Helgi – despite insisting to all around that she was a Ravenclaw (she was definitely a Hufflepuff – even if her newly purple hair made her look Slytherin). Helgi was the only totem that belonged to a latent, but Felicity had taken the visiting Alpha's words to heart and denied to all who asked that she could ever be anything other than insignificant in terms of her gifts. She insisted that her brains were enough and she would serve the Tribe with her skills – her friends and created family kept quiet about how her insistence on 'Tribe' simply made her seem more powerful not less.  
  
  
@-;---  
  
  
Felicity adored being at MIT. Even though her student ID had a g for latent guide stamped next to her name there was no demand for her to attend centre meetings. She could drift through periodically to meditate (or steal dinner) but no-one tried to insist she come to mixers or threw her off the site as an undesirable.  
  
  
The best use of her Guide status came when a casual conversation during her freshman Independent Activities Period resulted in a stalker at the start of her first spring semester. Even the chat made her feel a little uneasy, but it was Helgi's screaming when someone was scratching at her lock that brought it all to the fore. As much as she loved the dorms she moved into one of the Centre's suites for the rest of her year, she was after all just sixteen and supposedly in an all female dorm.  
  
  
Then at the end of her Junior year she met Cooper.  
  
  
Cooper Seldon was a self declared genius, but not as adept as his much younger girlfriend. He had managed to spin out his time at College by surfing through majors and exploiting the pass/no record method that MIT used for classes. He had left out some requirements as well, using this as his final excuse for not heading into a Graduate program – or even just finishing his first degree.   
They both entered the National Information Technology Competition along with their friend Myron. Cooper was dismissive of Felicity's work, but her final ranking of 2nd overall made him shudder – and his internal jealousy began to crystallize into something dark.  
  
  
When she reached her Senior year Felicity had completed her Undergraduate work and was working on a dual Masters in Cyber Security and Computer Sciences. While working at the Montecito for Danny (legally this time) she had dabbled in virus writing on the side – no Goth wanted to spend the Summer in Nevada by the pool. Donna had complained that she was no fun, but their tastes in entertainment were further apart than the two sides of the Grand Canyon.  
  
  
Getting back to College she test ran her baby against a major corporation, proving tax fraud that she then published as widely as she could online.  
  
  
As the Fall Semester came to an end she locked herself into either her dorm room or the laboratory to try and complete a major project she had been assigned for her dissertation. Only a programmed trigger to her cell phone let her know about her baby making it's way out into the world again. When she broke into Cooper's room she used her kill switch command to stop him just as he made it into the Campus Infrastructure, he flew into a rage and threw the laptop across the room, spraying them in pieces of plastic and metal.  
  
“You can be a Hacker or a Hero Felicity. You need to choose.”  
  
For all her black clothes and darker hair Felicity was at heart a white hat, slightly grey at best, with a desire for a career as a blue. After three days Cooper came crawling back, a new set of micro-tools as a gift to try and appease her anger. She forgave him conditionally, but full restoration could not occur as the FBI snatched him from Campus, allowing his teenage love one visit before hanging himself.  
  
  
It was just as well that she had finished all her work and was ahead on her thesis because Felicity was in no fit state to work. She fell back into the S/G centre for a few days before giving in and calling home. Cooper allowed Danny to use one of the jets to fetch her home, and she collapsed into his embrace when he appeared at her shielded door. He piled her into a car and swept her home, this once she would miss IAP in favour of rebuilding, reconnection and reconstruction.  
  
  
@-;---  
  
  
The majority of the Las Vegas crew gave their MIT girl a week of grace before landing at her door. Danny and Delinda had spent time with her, Saoirse and Etienne curling up with Helgi at their feet as they binge watched Lost and drank far more peppermint hot chocolate than a Vegas Christmas required.  
  
  
Felicity went along to the centre for two sessions in the sensory rooms before declaring that she was done with all the side-looks and frowning – she had been practising meditation since childhood and didn't need any more instructions in clearing her mind (especially as she usually focused instead – geniuses generally always had things on their minds!).  
  
  
Finally Donna could take it no more and called around, she loved having Felicity home but the depressed heap of black in her living room was not the version she liked having around. Eventually they all arrived with pizza, DVD's and hugs in abundance. Animals had gambolled around the floor, climbing into laps for cuddles or nuzzling at necks, passing affection around the unofficial pack. Watching Felicity twine braids endlessly in her ebony hair, far too stark against grief stained skin, gave Delinda and Mary an idea. With the eye gaze conversation that only friends could have they agreed and Etienne curled into the teenagers lap.  
  
“Yes Delinda?”  
“Mary and I have an idea.”  
“I am not going to the pool.”  
“No... Look. You've been saying you need a change, so – let us help.”  
“What do you mean.”  
  
Mary waved her cell phone in triumph.  
  
“Booked.”  
“Booked? What?”  
“You, me, Delinda and your Mom at the spa tomorrow. Then we'll hit the forum at Caesars and some other places.”  
  
Delinda lifted her Siamese out of her lap and took Felicity's hands.  
  
“Ever since that ass-hole visitor came you've lost your shine hon. You need to let your light shine.”  
“OK.”  
  
Donna wiped the moisture from her eyes, starting slightly as Danny came up behind her and wrapped her up.  
  
“Thank you.”  
“No need. She's ours. We may not be official but she's ours.”  
  
  
@-;---  
  
  
It had been a very different Smoak that returned to Cambridge in February. Pack time and her make-over had given her a fresh start. She was almost ready to leave the campus and head out into the world. Even before she was in her new dorm room (the College were very understanding about a Guide needing to move after a bad situation) she had job offers from all over the continental United States – Private Companies, National Agencies and several groups who only had alphanumeric designations. That Spencer had arranged for the Black Queen to call her about coming to the Bureau was a point in his favour – but the whole Cooper situation had turned her off of working to combat crime.  
  
  
Wayne Enterprises had sent a very impressive package, including a Vice-President to talk her through the offer. LuthorCorp and LexCorp had sent competing but very similar proposals and Dr Harrison Wells came out to campus personally to see if she was interested in coming to the STAR Labs team. However, the proposition from Queen Consolidated came with the CEO Walter Steele on Skype and a private jet trip to visit Starling City for a face to face interview. By the time she got back onto the plane with one of the best lattes she had ever tasted she had an informal deal to join QC in the IT department with a view to taking over the Firewalls within a year and the whole of Cyber-security within three. With the additional offer of having an apartment organised through corporate headquarters and a guaranteed parking space she was delighted. Her Hacktivism history had made her more aware than ever about the risks posed by viruses and the black hatted brigades and the idea of being on the opposite coast to her College for a new start appealed.  
  
  
@-;---  
  
  
Felicity had enjoyed her first few months at Queens Consolidated, she had her own office and time with her own programming ideas in addition to the tasks she ran for the Securities team. Occasionally she was tasked with projects by Senior Staff, learning about the breadth of the company and where her skills could assist.  
  
  
One February night, mostly avoiding the Valentines chaos that seemed to have taken over every store in the city, she decided to finish off an assignment from CEO Steele – he had taken an interest in her career after recruiting her so hard. She sent everything via the company servers and to his e-mail before walking the hard copy up to his office, admiring the blue eyes in a smug fratboy's face.  
  
  
As she left the room she felt a shiver run down her spine and turned to see a tail tip vanish around a corner, nothing else moved so she shook her head and chocked it up tiredness and her extreme single status. She had tried to date but her internal signals stopped her; she had seen Helgi more and more since her move to the West Coast but the nearest centre was in San Francisco and somehow she just never had the time.  
  
  
@-:---  
  
  
Oliver had come back to Starling with the intention of remaining as solo as possible. He had managed being alone on Lian Yu and had planned on Shinju being his only real companion beyond any familial or social connections he had to keep for respectability. However, his feral episode had introduced him to the San Francisco centre and his mother's nervousness had brought him John Diggle. He had donned Shado's hood and gone out into the city with bow and quiver, leaving felons secured for the SCPD, protecting the territory he had initially had no intention of claiming.  
  
  
The notebook was another thing entirely. Something in the city was making him nervous, Shinju appeared constantly – checking corners, alleys and dumpsters as her Sentinel rediscovered his birthplace. The two of them used contacts and connections to send out feelers into the underground and military, Oliver becoming more comfortable with using his status as a Sentinel and as a Queen to reconnoitre. After the redistribution of money from Adam Hunt's accounts they had targeted Martin Sommers, that Laurel Lance was bringing a civil suit against him part of the reason for his selection as their next target. They had discussed how to tackle him while sparring, a Sentinel pack's traditional method of talking.  
  
  
Diggle had a very good grounding in hand to hand combat. He had after all been an elite asset in the Rangers, taking on missions that didn't officially exist even before he was tasked to ARGUS for particular operations. However, all his experience hadn't prepared him for facing an Alpha Sentinel Assassin. When he was first shown a photo of his new charge he had remembered the old gossip – an out of control party-boy peeing on a cop made news even in Afghanistan! But when he studied closer he recognised something in the scion's eyes, something he saw in the mirror and in too many of the personnel he had fought with in theatres all over the world. The medical report attached to the file, even though clearly redacted, spoke of experiences that even the most hardened SERE expert would struggle with. That he hadn't been sent dormant said more about him than any file; soul deep resilience and an indefatigable spirit – his Guide was going to have to be amazing to keep up with him. Then again, the Guide suited the Sentinel and only someone extraordinary would match the future prime, of that he was sure.  
  
  
Getting Sommers to make a full confession, and leaving him as a human piñata had almost been fun – apart from the presence of 简娜伟 and the Triad's coming to Starling. They had proven Laurel's case and saved her from the assassin that seemed to know Oliver a little too well. Unfortunately the press ended up with a photograph of the cities new hooded defender, although the journalist's option to call him the Vigilante stung at their honour. SCPD had kept an open mind about their hooded helper but social media pressure meant that a task force was formed, even though as far as they could tell no laws had been broken. Moira was on edge around them both, she had not expected her choice of bodyguard to bond into her son's pack instead of being her tie into his life. Although Diggle had always said that his first loyalty was to his asset she had anticipated being able to excerpt pressure on him as the paying client, in her world money did all the talking whether in the board room or the drawing room.  
  
  
Their new target was another low life landlord, one who managed to keep one step clear by running everything through his corporation and technically having all work done by subsidiaries and sub-contractors to keep his hands clean. He had managed to seem a philanthropist by creating low income housing for essential workers and those near the poverty line, but kept his overheads down with grey market parts, incorrect aggregates and non-reinforced concrete slabs. However, his worst failing was the installation of defective smoke alarms. The first fatal fire should have been a warning, the second a red alert but not to him. There had been too many fires and too many funerals. Eventually a court case had been filed, a massive civil suit that named one James Holder as well as his companies and all the workers and adjunct companies that they could find as liable for the multiple deaths, severe injuries and losses suffered. Even so he managed to leave the court with nothing but a legal bill to pay, nothing but rubble left behind. He had left the court and was chauffeured to his office and a small champagne reception before making his way to the roof for a swim, a jacuzzi and a beer before his ordered company arrived.  
  
“Now that the lawsuit has been settled, we can focus on Unidac Industries... OK... I'll see you in the office first thing... well almost first thing...”  
  
An arrow shot past him, the whistling noise shattering his beer bottle followed by a thud as it embedded itself into the wood of the pool surround.  
  
“I have armed security inside, all I have to do is call out.”  
“Go ahead, they can't hear you.”  
“What the hell do you want?”  
“How many people died in those fires... How many?! The courts saw you owe nothing – I disagree.”  
“Who cares.”  
“I care... James Holder...”  
  
  
Oliver's words were interrupted by a gunshot and he tracked it automatically, piggybacking his sight with his hearing to find the shooter. There, the next tower – impressive shot with the wind and thermals created by the luxury buildings. An arrow, nock – pull – release, nock – pull – release, red hot burn across right arm, ignore, focus, nock – pull – release, modified rifle, a red eye. The sniper picked up his gear as Oliver stood, still tracking the paid killer, picking up as much information as he could – only hearing John's voice faintly over the earpiece he wore but glad of it to stop him zoning on his new target. He had wanted Holder to pay – dead men had no access to their accounts.  
  
  
Back in the Foundry basement he let John supply him with the tools he needed but insisted on treating his own wounds, there was an irritant at play messing with his levels and he could not bear another's touch.  
  
“Anyone that corrupt must have had more enemies that just you Oliver.”  
  
With a grimace he agreed with the other man and pulled on a clean shirt before scratching a line through the name in his book. But as he made his way over to his friend he staggered, dials spinning crazily in his head. His hand landed in the kidney bowl of dressings and he realised.  
  
“Blood – bullet must've been poisoned.”  
  
He had briefed John on the next actions and he flung the green case open, pulling free a raw leather pouch of herbs and running to his Alpha's side. Oliver had a bottle of water ready and rinsed them down as fast as he could before letting the other man help him to the cot they had set up for emergencies.  
  
“I have the watch, and I'll do some tests.”  
  
The unusual feeling of safety overtook Oliver and he nodded briefly.  
  
“Wake me if need... IV.”  
“Course man, rest – I have the watch.”  
“It's yours.”  
  
Wondering again about who had taught his lead about call sign and counter sign codes John headed to the dressings, he had a horrible idea who was in town – but if Oliver was to rest he had to keep his emotions in check or else he would wake.  
  
  
@-;---  
  
  
Eight hours later Oliver sat up with a yell, unaware that he had been talking his flashback out to a worried Diggle. His 'bodyguard' was scrolling through his phone, frowning at the series of messages that had started to blow up both their screens.  
  
“What is it Dig?”  
“Thea...”  
  
Oliver vaulted up and grabbed a soft cashmere sweater, a favourite fabric for the online with some cash, pulling it over his head and scrubbing at his face.  
  
“Come on... you can tell me on the way.”  
  
  
@-;---  
  
  
Finding out that his little sister had moved up from intoxication to breaking and entering hadn't been the best start to the day. Arguing with his mother over her parenting style had just been the icing on a very uncomfortable cupcake. As soon as they could they headed back out, Oliver changing for a meeting he wished he had delayed. He left Diggle with the testing and headed up to Tommy, setting up a club had seemed like a good idea – hiding his coming and going – but he couldn't spend too much time there as Sentinel's didn't generally respond well to flashing lights, dark rooms, loud noises and enough pheromones to choke an elephant.  
  
  
Getting Tommy on board was easy, knowing that he was both ready to use his degree and delighted to piss off his father made it simple. He left with a plan to visit all the high end and VIP clubs he could – for research purposes obviously.  
  
  
When he got back downstairs it was to John pacing up and down, glaring at the screens. He heard his Alpha coming and started his report before he even got fully downstairs.  
  
“The bullets were laced with curare, South American Alkaloid that paralyses muscles, even a glancing hit will kill because the diaphragm stops working.”  
“Clever. Very specific though.”  
“Yes. MO leads to one man. Interpol has him code named as Deadshot. Recorded assassinations in Chicago, Moldova, Corto Maltese, Italy, Russia – you pay he kills.”  
“There's something else...”  
“I've seen it before, knew the MO once I had the chemical analysis.”  
“And, tell me....”  
  
His words were rich with the suppressed power of the Prime he could become, the only Sentinels with the voice abilities of a Guide.  
  
“He killed my brother.”  
“Andy?”  
“Yeah.”  
“He will be dealt with, I vow.”  
  
Empathic weight filled his words, a Sentinel hunt was coming.  
  
  
@-;---  
  
  
Using his Bratva connections hurt Oliver deep down. As much as he cared for Anatoli, as much as he had survived and even thrived in Russia, it had hurt him deep inside, damaged him as a Sentinel even as his senses had improved to protect him. He had to be the biggest, baddest bully on the block to prove himself, without revealing his senses. He could only hope that the reports on his online status had been dismissed by the brotherhood as false or at least exaggerated, there were many with fewer scruples than Anatoli and all would do a lot to have an Alpha on their side – even if they would end up driven dormant by the empathic pressure that could be brought to bear. Still, at least he had been given an address, and ended up with a laptop that could be an effective colander!  
  
  
There had now been two deaths of one percenters with an interest in Unidac Industries and the auction that was about to happen. Oliver had never believed in coincidences and Deadshot taking out bidders meant that the laptop was very important. Knowing as well that his mother and Walter were planning to attend the sale just made accessing the machine more vital. He asked his, well step-father he supposed, for advice about his 'computer issues' and was given a name with a smile. The good feelings, paternal almost, buoyed him up – if the expert was trusted this much then she had to be good.  
  
  
@-;---  
  
  
John cocked his head to the side as a wave of 'something' swam through him as the elevator doors opened to release them into the IT services floor. Shinju appeared between them, chuffing softly in feline pleasure and leading the way ahead of the two men. Oliver knocked at the ajar door and stepped inside.  
  
  
She was incandescent to his senses, a nimbus of light seeming to surround her as he focused intently on her bright bright blue eyes. She inhaled sharply as Shinju suddenly materialised beside her and licked her motionless hand. Oliver meanwhile heard a hoarse ya-ya-ya and looked down to see a defined black and white head staring back at him, as though looking inside his spirit.  
  
“Guide...”  
“Sentinel...”  
  
  
@-;---  
  
  
The San Francisco centre switchboard had lit up like a Christmas tree within moments of Oliver walking into Felicity's office. Sensitives reported in, all the online – bonded and solo – had felt their meeting, it would later become clear that at least three known latents had flipped with their Primes. Fortunately John had Oliver's cell phone, and Oliver had put Piper and Leo Halliwell into his contacts.  
  
  
The department PA had called the executive floor when he realised what was happening. The Queen heir's status had been all over the news and having him bond would be huge for the Company. His mother had been in the elevator almost before the phone was hung up, followed by her husband and the two sense Sentinel who was her bodyguard. It was her presence of mind in stopping the matriarch that prevented Oliver hurting her again.  
  
  
The two were stationary, frozen statues facing across a desk littered with computer parts and papers covered in esoteric coding. The computer Oliver had been holding was even more damaged now, dropped from nerveless hands when he heard her voice. Diggle was a wall in the doorway, whispering into his cell and to his Alpha in rapid codes and several languages, the best to keep him from zoning or going feral.  
  
  
The sudden wash of another strong aura filled them and everyone, apart from the icicle duo, turned to see. Diggle had never been more pleased to see the visitors, when Piper had said Leo was getting reinforcements he hadn't expected the US Primes to appear.  
  
“Sentinel Diggle.”  
“You honour us Guide Sandburg.”  
  
The men had aged well since rising to the position of Primes. The textbooks may have still had their first publicity pictures next to their information, but time had passed – they tended to stay at the main retreat and sent younger pairs after the danger now. Still, there were very few on the planet who would have been stupid enough to regard them as passive, they were as dangerous as they had been after their first bonding when they had taken on the centres in an only slightly bloody coup.  
  
“I was on the psionic plane when Guide Smoak came online. The wave brought me back with a thump!”  
“And my son?”  
  
The statuesque blonde was not familiar with being out of the centre of anything involving her family. Blair swept through her as a matter of course, only the trained there saw his micro-expressions change, and Jim stepped up to flank his everything.  
  
“Oliver will be fine Mrs Queen.”  
“Steele now. He is just standing there.”  
  
Panicked parents were nothing new to them, this at least was familiar. Having recovered himself Blair reached out a hand and pulled a seat out for her. There were deep fissures that needed investigating in her, but her main emotion was fear – more than that, terror for her son. Sitting opposite her he took her hands to explain the next steps as experienced personnel went to work.  
  
“There is a drill for this, even when Primes meet and come online! Oliver knows Piper and Leo while Felicity has been a part of an unofficial pack in Las Vegas since childhood. There is a pair from there coming to the main retreat and we'll all meet them there.”  
“The main... you mean to take him again? You can't, I just got him back.... please....”  
“Sh, sh, Mrs Steele. Their bond will be profound, they will need time together, time to rebuild as a pair rather than as two individuals. Oliver is likely to become very possessive over her, mind you she'll be just as bad. Their shields will become tissue paper rather than iron plate. I promise, we will take care of him, of both of them. I know that it seems you are losing him again but really, you will have him more than ever. A bonded Sentinel Prime is balanced and pure. He will gather a pack around him and never be safer – a Prime cannot disappear. They will need to nest for three days then he can call you, even Skype! He will be back in a fortnight, maybe 20 days but I suspect no more. He has clearly claimed Starling, he will bond his Guide and they will come back to their territory.”  
  
Blair paused and considered before leaning close to her ear, the majority of the Sentinels present dutifully dialling down.  
  
“The pack will prevail. Whatever you are afraid of, whatever has caused the bone deep fear in you, the pack will prevail. Your family will be safe now.”  
  
Rich with empathic power, his voice calmed her and she nodded.  
  
“There will be a packet waiting for their return.”  
“Thank you.”  
  
He helped her to stand as Leo and Piper each led their opposite towards the elevator, Felicity and Piper both dwarfed by their taller men. Oliver stopped and turned his head to the Prime and smiled at his mother.  
  
“Guide... home... promise.”  
“I love you darling child. A quiet party when you get back, promise!”  
  
Another smile and they left, taking separate elevators to make sure they didn't touch.  
  
“20 days Guide Sandburg.”  
“And not a minute more.”  
  
  
@-;---  
  
  
Two helicopters left from different pads and several SUV's drove out in three different convoys. Even in his 'imprint please' state Oliver recognised that this was unusual but as he and Felicity were travelling AirWhitelighter he let it go. They had expected Felicity to balk at that, but her tense – of course I know magick is real, I'm from Vegas! - had settled the issue. His dials were spinning up and down depending on how far his Guide was from him at any one moment, the brief point that they were separated by states almost drove him feral once more. Paige materialised mere seconds after Leo but for Oliver they seemed almost as long as his time in purgatory.  
  
  
The Alpha Prime Sentinel and Guide Centre for Contemplation, usually known simply as 'The Reflection', was situated in the Grand Teton National Park – although set on a place that Shoshone Medicine men had used to help their Sentinel and Guide pairs balance their senses. Before the main entrance was a carved statue in honour of Sacagawea, the Prime who had kept Lewis and Clarke alive and was immortalized in their writings. Her feet were polished smooth, the thousands of hands that had rubbed across them turning them glossy and silken to even Sentinel eyes.  
  
  
A herbal tissane was served to the new pair before they were taken to prepare. Oliver was far calmer now, the air of The Reflection itself bringing him peace. His skin had started to react, prickling beneath even the fine Egyptian cotton and cashmere of his clothes. Red lashes ran down his legs, exactly following the seams of his jeans, and he winced as he stripped down. Fresh water had been pulled from the well on site, Sentinels in crisis did not react well to chemicals on their skin, and both were bathed in an almost ceremonial manner. Not all bondings could be so controlled, but most tried to retreat to an isolation chamber in a centre at least. Finally they were taken to two separate rooms and allowed some time to meditate and integrate the changes before they came physically together.  
  
  
Felicity opened her eyes to a blue sky, breathing steadily and deeply from her diaphragm as she had been taught. Her black scrubs were soft beneath her fingertips and the sand she sat on was warm and comfortable. Helgi was capering around her, hoarse khrya-ya-ya-ya echoing across the empty space. Suddenly he stopped and whined like a cub, before running across the sand and whuffling at Shinju as she appeared. A long pink tongue licked over the smaller creatures head, tasting the soul of her new charge. Behind her Oliver appeared in similar scrubs to hers, sitting easily in lotus posture just out of arms reach.  
  
“Hi.”  
“Hi, again.”  
“Sorry about that by the way, I didn't mean to upset your life like this...”  
“Stop there Sentinel. I was meant for you.... I've been waiting for you ever since Helgi showed up in the Montecito coffee bar.”  
“You came online in a casino?”  
“Vegas kid, and not online just – sort of aware of things.”  
“Oh. I've only ever been to the strip with Tommy and frats. You probably know it differently.”  
“The Casino crew are my pack.... were my pack.”  
“Can I meet them?”  
“Fairly certain at least two are here now.”  
“Really?”  
“I've always known where they are. When Danny was posted back to Afghanistan I always knew if he was safe or not. Then there was an incident and I had, I suppose an episode.”  
“What happened?”  
“Senior year of High School. Danny had been out for a while but he was recalled. He really didn't want to go but Spec Ops don't really get a say if they're on the lists and...”  
“Felicity.”  
“Oh... babbling...”  
“Yeah.”  
“Kay. Having dinner with the rest of the pack, combination of the Casino crew and some CSI's we knew... anyway, I just started screaming, screaming... calling out his name and begging. Big Ed was on the phone so fast calling everyone he could... turns out he had to....”  
  
Her voice broke on a sob, gasping as Saoirse appeared in her lap. A friendly lap to her cheek dried up her tears and she played with the panda's ears carefully.  
  
“They were trapped by insurgents, nothing to do, no way out... Danny called in an air strike... using his own GPS as the locator beacon.”  
“Shit, brave bastard.”  
“They gave him a Silver Star, he tried to turn it down.... thought that the sole survivor shouldn't be remembered – only pitied and feared.”  
“Fucking hell darling.”  
  
  
Saoirse climbed out Felicity's lap and gambolled and rolled across the sand to the new Alpha. One soft lick to Oliver's scarred hand and he knew all there was to know about the other man. A hero who tried to hide inside the flashing lights. Oliver was astonished by his strength, and amazed that any Sentinel as strong as former Captain McCoy could ever cope on a casino floor. He looked up from the huddle of Spirit Animals around him to see his Guide standing over him with a proffered hand.  
  
“Come with me Sentinel.”  
“Anywhere.... Guide.”  
  
  
@-;---  
  
  
In the physical realm they were led into an isolation chamber that had been prepared for them during their time on the psionic plane. Rich, soft furnishings of multiple fabrics to keep a Sentinel from losing themselves, pure beeswax candles to perfume the air and give gentle light for sensitive eyes and ewers of the pure clean water for throats and bodies alike.  
  
  
They stood again, simply looking at each other as they had in Felicity's office but now cleansed and alone. Oliver was not wearing the clothes he had worn in their shared vision, only a soft velvet towel lapped around his waist. Felicity simply gaped, the sheer physicality of her Sentinel taking her breath away.  
  
“Sorry.”  
“For, um... what?”  
“I'm damaged, hurt... and.... and used...”  
“Nonsense. You are pure and strong and noble...”  
  
She stepped up to him, stepping into his personal space and tilting her head up.  
  
“And mine...”  
  
He leaned over and took her mouth fiercely, the taste of her bursting over his tongue and filling him. He pulled her scrub top up, desperate for skin and felt the silk of her back, fingertips becoming more sensitive to take in every feeling he could. Her hands scrabbled at his waist, untucking the towel and letting it fall. He smiled into the kiss, pleased to his root at her eagerness. He had dreamed of his Guide, they all did, but had never hoped for one who could match his passion. She pushed on his chest, backing him to the cushion strewn bed. She knew he was letting her move him but he went willingly, he was certain he'd follow her anywhere she wanted to go. A final shove and he fell back, smiling up as she straddled him and felt muscles, scars and ink with scarlet painted nails.  
  
  
He let her investigate before his instincts took and over he rolled them over, peeling cotton pants down smooth white legs. She scrambled back up the bed and lay back, hair flying out over a red silk bolster as she raised her arms.  
  
“Come to me, my Sentinel.”  
  
He lay on her, kissing at her neck and slowly licking and nipping down her chest, pausing to taste pink nipples, licking and sucking them to peaks before continuing his path. Soft kisses on her flanks made her squirm and giggle, a lap and more thorough taste at her naval and on he went. He bypassed his main desire to taste lean legs until he could nip at the arches of delicate feet. Then he made his way back up, pausing where he had wanted to before, where her hand in his hair made it very clear she wanted him. Now her flavour burst across his taste buds more, her core scent imprinting on his very soul. She writhed beneath his talented teeth and tongue, her pleasure erupting across his shields, their minds beginning to meld and intertwine. He licked one long line from pubis to clavicles, her pleased shiver making her eyes shutter closed. Her nipples were hard points against his strong pectorals, her nails semi-circles against his shoulder blades – remaking the tattoo forced on him to memorialise his first mentor by his insane second into her own property.  
  
  
Their eyes met, heartbeats synchronising and breathing in unison.  
  
“I ask you to be my Sentinel, now and for all time. I will guard your mind and your soul with all that I am, Guiding you along our path...”  
“I ask you to be my Guide, now and for all time. I will protect your body and your soul with all that I am, a Sentinel to our path...”  
  
With a kiss they joined, souls merging such that no isolation chamber could contain them. Whatever lay ahead they were together now. A new pack would form. Justice would be served. Those who had failed Starling, failed the West Coast, would be put on notice.  
  
  
The Alpha Pair had arrived.  
  
  
@-;---


End file.
